


Watch Me Now

by Skyson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Gen, Rich Parties, Skoulson RomFest 2k16 REDUX, Song Inspired, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:47:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7620727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson runs into a couple of familiar faces while working undercover.</p><p>Written for Skoulson RomFest 2k16 Redux - Day 2 - prompt used: undercover</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Me Now

_Gonna show them a thing or two_  
_I’m gonna turn it up set it loose_  
_Feast your eyes I’ve got something new_  
_From up here can’t beat the view_

_Just watch me now_  
_Just watch me now_  
_I got somethin’ for ya_  
_A little more for ya_  
_You won’t believe your eyes_  
_Just watch me now_

_From new york to l.a_  
_East to the west_  
_Go on and crown me king_  
_I’m am the best of the best_  
_Just one look you’re gonna be obsessed_  
_I give it all i got_  
_Never any less_

_Just watch me now_  
_Just watch me now_  
_I got somethin’ for ya_  
_A little more for ya_  
_You won’t believe your eyes_  
_Just watch me now_

~~~~

"There's an event going on, midtown Manhattan. Hosted by a man by the name of Jared Witt." May brought up the guy's file on the big screen, and Coulson folded his arms across his chest as he scanned it. "He's your typical rich-boy narcissist. The head manager of one of the companies his father owns - some sort of tech R&D facility called CRAFT."

"The Center for Research of Advanced and Future Threats." Talbot put in, and when Coulson raised his eyebrow at him, he added, "They're on contract for us. Keeps us up to date in the technology world."

"That's encouraging." Mack muttered sarcastically, as Fitz snorted, and Talbot narrowed his eyes at the both of them.

"They're only as advanced as they are because SHIELD fell apart." Fitz informed them, and Coulson pursed his lips to hide his amusement as Talbot grew more frustrated.

"Anyway," May drawled, gathering their attention again, "you may remember they were involved in that prosthetic arm hack debacle last year. Someone was able to hack into their software and take control of a few of the arms, mostly resulting in a bunch of dumb pranks, a few injuries," She quickly clicked through a bunch of news articles describing everything from people destroying priceless art to multi-car pile-ups on the interstate.

Talbot glanced sideways at Coulson, and Coulson clenched the fingers of his left hand.

"I'm glad we've got our own resident genius engineer, and didn't have to go to those guys." He commented, and Fitz scratched the back of his neck.

"Actually, some of CRAFT's ideas are sound; I used some of their plans - improved on them, of course - in my designs for your arm," Fitz told them, and all four of the others in the room turned to look at him. "Don't worry, sir, yours is _actually_ unhackable. Daisy helped me with the software, and created the security on your arm herself. That arm of yours is more secure than this base, honestly."

"Good to know," Talbot replied dryly, his jaw tensing in that way it always did whenever Daisy Johnson was mentioned.

"Let's, uh, move on," Coulson suggested, gesturing his chin toward the screen in front of them. He tapped his fingers on his arm once, thoughtfully. He hadn't known Daisy had been so involved in creating his prosthetic. He wondered if that was why this version, more so than all the ones previously, has 'melded' with him the best.

But did that mean _Daisy_ could hack his arm?

"As I was getting to," May continued on, dryly, "Not only is Mr. Witt the head manager of this _extremely_ well-funded company, he's also a member of the Watchdogs."

"Figures." Mack commented.

"And because CRAFT is on government payroll," May glanced at Talbot, "Witt cannot get Watchdog funding through his company. So, he holds these 'fundraisers' instead, claiming that he's raising money for local charities. In reality, he only announces a part of the earnings, and the rest go toward the Watchdogs. He's on the fast track to replacing his father as CEO of the parent company, and once that happens he'll have virtually an endless source of funds to send to his buddy Felix Blake."

Coulson rotated his jaw, still frustrated that his old friend had become so... Disillusioned.

"So what do you need?" Coulson asked, and Talbot stepped forward to face the other three.

"CRAFT, inherently, is not associated with the Watchdogs. It is essential that we keep them on the government payroll. It would be... A huge blow if we lost them as a source." Talbot explained.

"I need you to go undercover," May told Coulson. "Attend this fundraiser, scope the place out. As we did with Hydra,"

"Follow the money, find the head." Coulson nodded.

"The sooner we can find a way to bring in Witt, the more likely we can keep this quiet and keep CRAFT out of the crosshairs." May informed him. "Fitz will set you up with some surveillance hardware; we can bet they're going to have scanners, so we have to be careful."

"Am I going in alone?" Coulson asked, glancing at Mack. They hadn't let him go _anywhere_ off base alone, not since Daisy left.

"Yes." Talbot answered, and he didn't look very happy about it. "This is strictly surveillance, Coulson, unless you _happen_ to find an opening with Witt. Should that be the case, your partner and a few of my men will be posted nearby and waiting for your signal."

"Dig out your suit." May said to Coulson.

~~~~

It was a three-piece, navy blue, expensive thing that he's worn maybe two or three times before. But, an expensive suit was necessary to fit in with this op, so he took it to get dry-cleaned and made sure it still fit. A suit that didn't fit him perfectly would stand out a hell of a lot more than if he walked in wearing a sixty-dollar thing from a department store.

"Damn," Mack commented when Coulson walked into the hangar bay, holding two different scraps of fabric in his hands. As he approached Mack realized they were pocket squares.

"Which one you think?" Coulson asked, looking seriously perturbed about his problem, and Mack raised his eyebrow slightly as he looked his partner up and down.

"The red one, with the paisley." Mack eventually commented, and May, who'd been standing next to him with a small grin on her face, nodded in agreement.

"A pop of color to show them you're adventurous." She mused, taking the red square from Coulson and folding it expertly. Coulson tucked the white one in his trouser pocket. "Huh," She mused, holding the fabric closer for a second, before tucking it into the front pocket of his jacket. "The blue paisley picks up the color of your suit... Perfectly. How much was this getup?" She sounded surprised. As if he didn't know how to wear a suit. He rolled his eyes.

"Gift from Fury when I made Level Eight. He said, and I quote, 'Every agent - hell, _every_ man - should own at least one good, quality suit.'" Coulson looked down at himself, straightening the vest. "He said all my other suits don't count."

"I can see why," May admired, flicking her eyes up and down Coulson, as well. He shifted his feet, a little uncomfortable, but smirked at his old friend. This suit was definitely a little more form-fitting than his others.

"Agent Coulson!" Fitz called, jogging over to them. "I figured you might - you usually, I mean, wear glasses when you go undercover?" Fitz held up a pair of black eyeglasses that looked exactly like the pair Coulson owned. He had a feeling they weren't the same pair, though. "I've rigged these up with a fingerprint-enabled pressure switch in the top right corner. You just pretend you're readjusting them on your face, and it takes a photo. Just in case you see some suspicious guys around but don't hear any names. Facial recognition and all that." He handed over the glasses, and Coulson put them on to try them out.

"Nice." He nodded toward the scientist. "Thanks, Fitz." Fitz nodded in return.

"Better get going. Taking Lola?" Mack asked, and Coulson nodded again, pulling the car keys out of his pocket.

"What else?" He grinned, and his partner clasped his shoulder as he returned the grin.

"Don't have too much fun."

"I'll sneak out some little hors d'oeuvres for you," Coulson teased, and Mack laughed.

~~~~

The party was located on the 62nd floor at 432 Park Avenue, and just driving up to the door made Coulson feel distinctly nervous.

It had been a long while since he had to pull out the rich businessman persona, but by the time the valet had opened his car door for him, he had calmed his nerves and was ready to go.

" _Very_ nice car, sir," the valet said appreciatively, and Coulson offered him a momentary smile as he stepped out and buttoned his jacket.

"Treat her well," Coulson told him, and he nodded emphatically. As Coulson walked toward the door, he muttered, "The apartment is at least four thousand square feet. Anyone like to guess the rent on that?"

"No thanks," Mack replied in his earpiece, and Coulson fought off a smirk.

Entering the lobby, he took note of the guard standing next to the concierge behind the desk, the guard posted by the elevators, and the guard leaning against the wall opposite. They all tried to give the appearance of lackadaisical, but Coulson knew otherwise.

He ignored them as he approached the elevators, where three other people stood waiting. By their dress, he guessed they were also attending the fundraiser event. They all smiled at one another in greeting, but the elevator ride was silent. Coulson was sorely tempted to crack a bad joke.

Getting into the apartment was easy. Figuring out which people in this crowd were Watchdog supporters was another matter. He was going to have to work the room.

He sighed quietly as he accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter near the door. Some liquid assistance would go a long way on a night like this.

~~~~

He was standing by one of the wide square windows, overlooking Central Park (damn, just how expensive was this place?), chatting lightly with one of the women who were using this event as a dating service. She was nice enough, he supposed. In his earlier days as an agent, he might have hooked up with her at the end of the op.

He wasn't exactly that type of guy anymore, though.

Glancing up after laughing politely at something she said, he noticed a couple entering the room, the man wearing a wide-brim fedora that looked suspiciously familiar to Coulson. When his partner said something and he smiled down at her, Coulson held his breath, and tuned out the noise of the room, trying to frantically wrack his brain around this new set of problems.

It was Nick Fury.

And the woman, in the red dress that matched his red tie -

"Daisy." Coulson whispered, so quietly that the others listening in on his surveillance didn't hear him.

"Old friend?" The woman next to him asked coyly, stirring her drink.

Coulson blinked, schooled his features, and focused back on her. Mostly.

"I've seen that face before," She pointed the small straw at him. "Every man's face when he sees the one that got away."

"Audrey's not there, is she?" May's voiced floated very softly through his comms, having heard the woman he was currently talking to.

"No," Coulson answered them both, "I'm afraid I don't know her. I thought, though, for a moment..." Coulson trailed off, glancing back at Daisy.

It was definitely Daisy.

"Someone you're still hung up on, huh?" The woman nodded knowingly, taking a sip of her drink.

"Something like that." Coulson answered dryly. She patted his arm consolingly, and gave him a wink.

"Well, if you ever find yourself in the market again..." She trailed her eyes slowly down his body.

"I'll let you know," Coulson replied wryly, but politely, and after sharing a smile she walked away.

Mack whistled over the comms.

"Stuff it," Coulson muttered behind his glass of bourbon.

He kept his post by the window, knowing that there was no way Daisy or Fury had missed his presence. If they wanted to talk, they would approach him. In the meantime, he would formulate how exactly to converse with them without blowing his cover or alerting his team of their presence.

~~~~

He caught Fury's eye ten minutes later, and Fury nodded politely as a greeting. Coulson fingered his lapel, and Fury nodded again, this time more subtly. He then touched Daisy's arm, leaning down to say something quietly in her ear, hopefully sharing with her Coulson's sign that he had surveillance tech on his body.

A long time ago, when Fury and Coulson were working together more directly, Fury had shared his own personal set of signals he used when on the field. It came in handy moments like this when Coulson had to do something behind his own team's backs. And now it made a lot of sense that he used something other than SHIELDs basic training - HYDRA being involved, and all.

"Hello," Daisy greeted as the two of them approached Coulson. She was using a Russian accent to disguise her voice.

It was a surprisingly good accent, and Coulson narrowed his eyes a little at her, but only for a second. Where and when had she learned that?

"I apologize, but my husband here is recovering from a terrible sickness. He has lost his voice." She apologized, her hand on the front of Fury's suit, looking up at him lovingly. He smiled down at her, clearly thankful for her, and smiled with a shrug toward Coulson.

Smart, anyone SHIELD would recognize Fury's voice in a heartbeat.

"Ah, that's unfortunate," Coulson shared a look with Fury, automatically focusing on his right eye, though with his tinted glasses one couldn't tell there was anything wrong with his left.

"You are here for Mr. Witt, yes?" Daisy asked, and Coulson blinked.

"Are you burnt?" May asked on comms.

"Honestly," Coulson confided in a low tone, "I'm here for the socialization. It's nice to be at a fundraising party that I don't have to schmooze for." He grinned at her, all haughty businessman, and took a drink of his bourbon. "No," Coulson whispered into his glass, the comment directed toward May, and covered it up by clearing his throat. "And the good bourbon," He added to Daisy, lifting his glass and smirking a little.

"I think he is a brilliant man - not so brilliant as my husband, of course," Daisy added, wrapping her arm around Fury's, "but these _charities_ he funds - I come to all of his events," She gushed.

Well, that would explain why she'd gone off the map, lately. They must be pretty deep undercover.

The thought that she often dressed up like _that_ with Nick Fury dressed up like _that_ irked Coulson.

"He is quite a giving man, isn't he?" Coulson mused, the spark in his eye matching Daisy's.

Fury leaned down to say something in Daisy's ear again, and she asked Coulson rather suddenly,

"Are you here with anyone?"

"Is he talking to a couple of swingers?" Mack wondered, and Coulson tried not to choke on his bourbon. May shushed him.

"I've seen some familiar faces around, but no, I'm here alone." Coulson informed her, and Fury raised his eyebrow slightly.

"Hm. Too bad. If I wasn't with my husband, I would dance with you." Daisy said matter of factly, and Coulson's lips parted slightly in surprise. She laughed, standing on her toes to kiss Fury's cheek.

How the _hell_ long had they been working together that she felt comfortable enough to do that? The only two women Coulson has _ever_ seen Fury so comfortable working undercover with were Natasha - who could pull off a relationship with literally anyone - and Maria Hill, who was already in a real relationship with him anyway.

Fury said something to Daisy before she pulled away.

"He says you're allowed one dance, if you like." Daisy's eyes sparked. "If you keep your hands to yourself."

"Oh my god, they _are_ swingers!" Mack snickered, and Coulson was just grateful that May was the only other person on comms right now.

"Keep friendly with them, Coulson," May suggested, and Coulson bit back a groan. "If the woman comes to all of Witt's parties, she may be an asset in leading us to the big pockets."

"If I were a lesser man, I would make an asset joke right now." Mack commented, and Coulson huffed quietly, reaching up as if he were scratching his ear nervously, and turned off his comms.

May would be annoyed, but she would also trust that Coulson was just trying to get rid of the distraction. He would turn the comms back on if he needed help.

"I could stretch my legs." Coulson replied honestly, and looked at Fury. "Are you sure?" He asked, and Fury nodded, waving them toward the dance floor, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

Coulson wasn't sure whether he was feigning a phone call, or if he'd actually received one. He didn't have time to mull over that, though, because Daisy had taken his glass with one hand, set it on the window sill behind him, and slipped her other hand into his, leading him toward the area where a few other couples were slowly dancing.

He caught himself following the low cut of the back of her dress, his eyes drifting slowly over the curve of her ass. That red dress really was something -

"What are you doing here?" He whispered when they took their places and she turned back toward him. He mentally kicked himself back into gear. No more bourbon for him tonight.

"I take it your friends have stepped out?" Daisy asked, and he nodded. She relaxed, and said in her natural voice, "Same as you, it seems. Following the money." She settled one hand on his shoulder and one in his palm, allowing him to lead the dance. "We've been following this guy for a month or so now. _God_ , what a -" She stopped, schooling her features and bringing the smile back on her face. They could talk about whatever they wanted right now, but they still had to look the part.

"Yes." Coulson agreed with her unfinished comment. "So you and Fury have been together for a while now?" He asked, and she smirked a little.

"Jealous?" She wondered, her thumb just barely touching the side of his neck.

"No." Coulson replied too quickly. "What do you know?"

"I know that you think this red dress is _hot_ ," Daisy mused, stepping just a little bit closer to him during the next movement in the dance.

"Not about me," Coulson hissed, embarrassed, "about our _benefactor_."

"Oh," She sighed, as if she'd rather they had continued with the topic of her first comment. "I know he is the head manager of daddy's company. I know he's pretty important in funneling money toward our mutual enemy, though I don't think he's a leader of any sort. I'm assuming you're here to find the leader, as well?" Coulson nodded.

"Tonight is just recon. See if I can pick up on any suspicious activity going around, if he disappears into secret meetings with anyone, that sort of thing."

"Hmm," Daisy trailed her fingers down his shoulder, touching the edge of his pocket square. "What an unfortunate waste of a good suit," She murmured, and he imagined he could feel the heat of her fingers burning through his layers of clothes. He narrowed his eyes at her, doing a quick cursory glance of her dress, totally not lingering on the hint of cleavage that was so close to his own chest right now.

"I could say the same thing about that dress," He replied, and the look on her face was...electrifying.

"Ahem," The sound of another man clearing his throat jarred Coulson back into awareness, realizing that the song playing now was not the same one they had started dancing to.

"Ah, yes, he did only promise _one_ dance," Russian Daisy said, sounding sad and amused.

"You have a lovely wife," Coulson told Fury politely, nodding his head respectfully toward the man. "Thank you for allowing me a dance. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

"You, as well," Fury said, shaking Coulson's hand, slipping him a folded napkin. They shared a look, and Coulson turned toward Daisy one last time.

"Perhaps... I'll see you again sometime." He said, reaching up to rub his ear, and turning his comms back on.

"Perhaps," Daisy confirmed, giving him a look that made burst of warmth spread through his body.

"Wait, what?" Mack said. "What did we miss?"

Coulson returned her expression, unable to keep himself from looking at that dress again, meeting her eyes once more for just a second before turning around and heading back toward the bar, intent on another glass of bourbon.

Screw it, he was going to need some liquid assistance after that.

~~~~

After managing to survive another hour, Coulson finally saw Mr. Witt speak closely with a dark-haired, possibly Romanian, man. They wore very serious faces and seemed intent to keep their conversation private, so Coulson slowly meandered his way in their general direction. He didn't need to get too close, he just needed to hear anything that might involve the Watchdogs, and be able to catch a photograph of the Romanian's face.

"Another dance?" Daisy was saying, surprising him, her hand almost painfully tight around his elbow. He allowed her to pull him back on the dance floor, away from the other two men, slipping into the crowd of couples.

"What - where's your husband?" Coulson wondered, remembering that his comms were on and he had to be careful.

"Unfortunately, work has called him away." She sighed dramatically. "But you see, my husband is a very...gracious man, and I asked him if I could stay, and perhaps have you accompany me home afterwards?"

"Uh - accompany?" Coulson stammered dumbly. Daisy smirked at him, but her Russian persona was all innuendo and heat.

"Or perhaps _I_ could accompany _you_ home?" She murmured, trailing her nails up the side of his neck and behind his ear. He shivered, his arms holding her closer to him almost of their own accord.

Mack snorted through the comms, which helped cool the tension a little, at least on Coulson's side of things.

"I, um,"

"Perhaps we should continue this conversation somewhere more _private_?" She mused, her nail lightly scraping along the shell of his ear. His eyes half closed as he suppressed a moan, idly wondering why the hell he'd had so much bourbon earlier. This was _Daisy_ he was becoming aroused to, not some random lonely Russian trophy wife.

"Get it," Mack teased, and Coulson heard what could only be the sound of May hitting him.

"You want to know more about Mr. Witt, yes?" Daisy whispered, leaning in close where she _knew_ his comms were. "I can tell you what I know. My husband works for him and has overheard odd things. He tells me sometimes." She pressed the side of her nose against Coulson's jaw, sliding it slowly against his skin. His fingers gripped her waist tighter.

When had his hands made it to her waist?

"Coulson," May advised very quietly, "if she's telling the truth..."

"I have a hotel room close by," Coulson told Daisy, and her eyes lit up, and she slowly pulled away to a more appropriate distance away from him, sliding her hand down his arm and grasping one of his hands.

In the elevator, they were alone, so Daisy whispered quietly to him,

"The Romanian? He's very dangerous. He's one of the few faces I've seen at every single fundraiser, and I've done some digging. Still haven't found a name yet, but he's attached to a _lot_ of deaths, kidnappings, trafficking..."

"Human or drug?" Coulson asked, barely moving his lips.

"Both." Daisy replied, and he squeezed her hand a little bit tighter.

"Is she an investigator?" May asked carefully, suspicious.

"Are you... FBI?" Coulson asked hesitantly, and Daisy smirked at him, knowing whoever was on the other end of his comms were asking questions.

"We'll talk more in the hotel, yes?" She replied, her Russian dialect still flawless.

As they stood outside waiting for the valet to bring Lola around, Coulson carefully said toward his team on the comms,

"I'll contact you once I have the information we need."

"Wait, Phil, you should stay -"

He cut May off, pulling the bud out of his ear and slipping it into his trouser pocket. She would be frustrated about that later, but he wasn't thinking about that.

He was thinking about Daisy, and that red dress.

"Lola," She sighed under her breath when the car pulled up, reaching out to run her hand along the top of the door. If Coulson hadn't already been aroused by this point, that certainly would have done the job. Discreetly adjusting himself first, he pulled his wallet out and handed the valet some bills before getting into the car and putting it into gear.

"Where is Fury, really?" He asked as they pulled out and into the street.

"I'm guessing you removed your comms?" Daisy asked in her natural voice, and Coulson nodded. "He slipped up to the next floor in the complex - had a hunch there was something Watchdog related up there."

"What?" Coulson glanced at her, taking his foot off of the gas pedal.

"No, you and I are going to your hotel room." Daisy told him firmly, something dangerous in her eyes that made his breath shorten. "It was a minor lead and if Fury actually ends up finding anything he'll let me know."

"Daisy, I... Don't actually have a hotel room." Coulson admitted, and she raised her eyebrow.

"You're a rich businessman, right?" She asked, and then she touched her fingers against her collarbone, "I'm a rich trophy wife," She laughed, and Coulson realized that she'd hid a roll of bills down the front of her dress.

He swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away from her and trying to focus on the road.

He prayed to God that May and Mack weren't actually following them right now; and if they were, he hoped they weren't close enough to recognize who was really in his passenger seat.

~~~~

They were far past pretending by the time he received the room keys from the front desk and they'd entered the elevator. Alone, as soon as the doors closed Daisy turned toward him and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him into her as she kissed him.

He grunted against her mouth, surprised, and dumbfounded. He was so busy marveling over the fact that Daisy Johnson was kissing him, he forgot to kiss her back.

"I'm sorry," She said suddenly, letting go of his jacket and stepping away from him. "I just, you were, it's been a while, I forgot that the flirting is just - "

"Daisy," Coulson breathed out, a little more loudly than he intended, and she stopped, raising her eyebrows a little. He stared at her, lips parted slightly, having no idea what to say. He just stared for a minute, and then licked his lips, and then he was pushing her against the side of the elevator, his hands in her hair and his tongue in her mouth.

She uttered a pleased noise that vibrated through him, and he insinuated his leg between hers, his hands dropping to grip the fabric of her dress. She pressed her hips against his thigh, in time with the movement of his lips over hers.

The elevator dinged, announcing their floor, and they pried themselves apart suddenly, both of them a bit embarrassed by their sudden _attack_ at each other. They straightened out their clothes quickly as the doors opened, but Coulson knew that if anyone was standing in the hall right now there would be no doubt as to what they had been doing.

Thankfully, the hallway was empty.

"What room number was it again?" Daisy asked urgently, her hands on his left shoulder and her lips against his jaw. He groaned as he held the key cards up around her so he could see them.

"Room forty...three," He managed, his throat catching for a moment when she'd slid her hand down his back and squeezed his ass through his trousers.

She kept her face tucked against his throat as they stumbled their way to the room, and he realized she was hiding her face from the security cameras in the hall. Of course, that didn't explain why her tongue was pressed against his skin, but he wasn't complaining.

When he finally reached the door and tried to unlock it with shaking hands, she stood behind him with her face pressed between his shoulder blades, her arms wrapped around his torso, her hands -

" _Fuck_ ," He moaned as she cupped his arousal through his trousers, slowly squeezing and rubbing as she felt his bulge grow larger. He pressed both hands and his forehead against the door for a moment, overwhelmed by the sheer surge of arousal that poured through his body. He thrust into her hands once before remembering the security cameras, and, still shaking, he finally managed to get the keycard into the slot and wrenched the door open.

They stumbled into the room and he just barely managed to loop the 'do not disturb' sign around the outside door handle before the door slammed shut behind them and Daisy pushed him against the wall. Her lips were firm and intent on his own, but her hands were light as she began to loosen his tie and unbutton his shirt.

He wrapped his arms around her, sliding his hand down the open expanse of her back, pressing his thumb against her spine until he reached the fabric of her dress.

Then he reached down and pulled up the fabric from the bottom, sliding his hands underneath and molding his fingers around the curve of her ass, pulling her against him as he slowly shifted his hips. She moaned, loudly, and immediately refocused her attentions on his belt.

She pulled it from the loops of his trousers and dropped it to the floor, yanking his shirt up out of his waistband and sliding her hands up underneath it.

"Bed," Coulson managed, pressing his cheek against her temple as he tried to catch his breath.

She curled her fingers inside of his waistband, then, using her grip on his trousers to drag him with her toward the bed, walking backwards, not once looking away from him.

He was torn between the emotions welling up in him at that look on her face, and the pure arousal he felt with the tips of her fingers against the bare skin below his belly button.

"I love you," He breathed, absolutely serious, no doubt in his mind what she truly meant to him. The face she made - it was the same exact expression she had when he let her drive Lola for the first time.

She latched her arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly, and with her dress still hiked up as indecently as it was, she was also able to wrap her legs around his hips. With a grunt, he managed to catch her, hands under her thighs to hoist her up a little higher and hold her more securely against him, just simply holding her for a moment.

His leg could barely sustain his own weight for too long, and with her as well it soon gave out, and they tumbled in a laughing heap onto the bed.

"Oh, God, Coulson, I love you too, I was so afraid to - I wasn't sure if - God, I love you so much," Daisy babbled, peppering kisses all over his lips and jaw and neck. She pushed him over onto his back (he went willingly), straddling him and holding his face between her hands and kissing him so deeply he wasn't sure where he ended and she began.

"Daisy, Daisy, please," Coulson panted, overwhelmed by her heat and her weight and just - _her_. She sat up, putting _more_ weight onto his erection, and gave him a very serious nod before slipping her shoulders free from her dress.

~~~~

An hour and a half later, the landline in the room rang with a call from the front desk, saying there was a man downstairs asking for them, and did they know him? After receiving a description, Coulson confirmed (it was Fury) and the attendee sent him on upstairs to their room.

During the next five minutes, he and Daisy frantically remade the bed and yanked their clothes back on, though Coulson had a big feeling that Fury would take one look at them and know anyway. He didn't just become the Director of SHIELD because he looked like a badass.

"What, do they think I'm some sort of pimp?" Fury muttered in complaint as Coulson let him into the room, "Why the hell would they - oh." He shook his head, pursed his lips, raised on eyebrow in Daisy's direction. "Wait. Of course." Coulson opened up his mouth, ready to spout off some lame excuse, and Fury held up his hand. "I'm not the Director anymore, Coulson. If you're breaking any rules, they aren't mine."

Coulson looked away from his old friend, a little embarrassed. Fury then smirked.

"Besides, when _I_ was Director, that just gave me and Maria more easy excuses for - "

"I really, really, don't need to know." Coulson interrupted emphatically, and Fury shrugged.

"Alright, so as I'm sure Johnson has told you, I hung around the building after you two left. Followed some guys up the next floor, listened in on a meeting. We finally have a name for the Romanian: Dumitru Petran. He seems to be the right-hand-man and primary runner for one of Blake's main assets. Possibly even Blake himself; details are a little fuzzy on that one." Fury told them, sitting down comfortably in one of the chairs at the desk. Daisy sat down carefully on the edge of the bed, and after hesitating a beat Coulson sat next to her.

"Dumitru Petran." Coulson repeated to himself, filing away the name to remember later.

"They arranged the details of the next money shipment, and it's big - it's headed straight toward 'HQ', and I assume, Felix Blake." Fury added, and Daisy sat up a little straighter.

"When?" She asked.

"Tomorrow morning. Bright and early, 4am." Fury replied, looking at both her and Coulson.

"I have an idea," Daisy began, looking between them, and Coulson narrowed his eyes a bit. "You're not going to like this, Coulson, but - these guys cannot get this shipment. And my group is running a little low on funds since my last hit on Hydra..."

"No." Coulson interrupted, seeing where she was going with this.

"Coulson," She started to argue.

"No! Daisy, the media is already debating about you being a thug, you're just playing into their hands!"

" _That's_  what you're worried about?" Daisy scoffed. "I don't care what the media thinks about me."

"You should, because Talbot does, and Talbot dictates what the ATCU does in regards to you,"

Fury groaned, interrupting their little spat, and they both looked toward him to find him pinching the bridge of his nose and frowning like he had a headache.

"Phil, it's either let her have it and use it for her little 'save the Inhumans' campaign, or let it disappear into the government probably only to head right back into the hands of Blake." Fury grumbled, and Coulson's frown deepened.

He was probably right.

"Her campaign?" Coulson repeated, surprised. "You're not working with her?" Fury snorted.

"Are you kidding? I've got superheroes I need to babysit, since _somebody_ decided he was too good for the job," Fury teased, and Coulson made a face. "Yeah, you were always too good for the job." Fury agreed. "But you were also the only one I trusted, you know that."

"Yeah, I see that now." Coulson agreed.

"This little bromance thing is kind of cute." Daisy piped up, pointing between the two of them. Coulson and Fury both blinked at her, unamused by her description. She shrugged.

"Talk to me about this idea of yours." Coulson sighed, and Daisy wiggled a little to get more comfortable as she started explaining,

"Okay, so earlier you asked me if I was FBI? That got me thinking; it would be a good cover. As much money as they're moving, it would be easy to make it look like an international drug chain raid or something along those lines. We wear our vests and grab a few FBI jackets - they're super easy to find, actually - no one will even ask. And we can be in and out before the media can start looking too closely."

"That van of yours, I might be able to make it look like an old swat vehicle," Fury agreed slowly, and Daisy glared at him. "Or, I'll call a friend and have him drive one over tonight." He added, holding his hands up in the air. Coulson lifted his eyebrows in surprise that Fury was so easily intimidated by Daisy. "What?" Fury defended himself, "have you _seen_ what she can do?" Coulson grinned proudly.

"Yeah," He said, looking at Daisy, and she smiled back. Fury cleared his throat. "Okay," Coulson got back on track, "but we have to keep all of our - or at least definitely the two of your - identities from my team. They'll blow our cover as soon as they realize who the two of you are. _Especially_ if they recognize Daisy. We're still tasked to bring you in," Coulson said that last part directly to her, and she gave him a contemplative look.

"Will you? Bring me in?" She asked.

"Of course not," Coulson snorted, and Fury burst out a laugh.

"God, Talbot has no idea what he's got on his hands with you, does he? As someone who used to be your boss, I feel for the guy." Fury chuckled, amused. Daisy looked curious, but Coulson quickly kept talking before she could ask Fury for any stories.

"Vests, jackets, hats," Coulson listed off, looking at her as he thought of a disguise, "all of us matching, nondescript. Sunglasses, too; aviators or the like to cover up more of our faces. And Daisy, you'll need to keep your powers on the down-low. As soon as they find a security camera with your hand out in front of you, they're going to know."

"Duh," Daisy rolled her eyes, "Have you forgotten that May taught me how to kick ass long before I got my powers?"

"No," Coulson promised, "I haven't forgotten."

"Are you two flirting right now? Is this you flirting? Because I think you need some pointers." Fury tossed in, and Coulson bit his lip for a second, fighting off a smile.

"We take it in the back alley, after they've loaded the truck up but before they make it onto the main road. The less casualties the better." Daisy suggested, and both the men nodded in agreement.

"Alright. I'm going to call my guy, get the truck here in the parking garage." Fury announced, reaching for his phone, and Daisy got to her feet.

"I'll head out and get the clothes we need," She told them, heading into the bathroom to make sure her hair and everything was decent. Coulson got to his feet as well, mildly alarmed.

"Go with her," Fury suggested, not even looking up as he typed in a number on his phone, "I'll hold down the fort here. Your team is stationed across the street and they're going to wonder why your lady-friend is wandering in and out of the hotel in the middle of the night."

"Let's wander together," Daisy grinned, using her Russian voice, holding her hand out for Coulson to take.

As they were once more in the elevator, Coulson put the earpiece back in his ear and turned it on.

"You there?" He asked.

"Coulson! Status." May sounded relieved, and still mildly concerned.

"She knows I'm FBI," Coulson said slowly, glancing toward Daisy, "and knows I have my team on comms." May sighed in annoyance.

"Alright. What did she tell you? Is she still with you?"

"She knows I have to give you an update." Coulson added. "And yeah, she's still here," Daisy looped her arm around his waist, and he settled his across her shoulders. "The Romanian's name is Dumitru Petran. He seems to be a right-hand-man to somebody of importance - possibly even Blake himself."

"Excellent," May sounded surprised, "she was more help than I expected. Is she... Is she legal? Is she expecting something out of this?"

"Her visa is valid, and as far as I know she's not guilty of anything illegal." Coulson assured May, who seemed to relax at that. He imagined she was thinking about the possibility of trying to persuade Talbot to offer amnesty to a Russian woman he'd never heard of before. "She seems to have a personal vendetta against Mr. Witt. Her husband works for him, and it seems he doesn't treat them with much respect."

"Mm, a wife scorned is a woman feared." May murmured, and Coulson raised his eyebrow, though May couldn't see it.

By this point, they were walking across the lobby and out of the hotel, planning on walking to their destination, and Mack noticed them.

"Hey, what - where are you going?" Mack wondered, and Coulson sighed.

"Look, we're - just stay at the hotel, all right? Watch for any familiar faces. We'll be back."

"Keep your damn comms on, alright?" May muttered. "I care more about your safety than about hearing your attempts to _flirt_."

"Hey," Coulson grunted, affronted. "I've been told I'm very good at flirting."

Daisy leaned into him, touching her lips lightly against his jaw.

"Are they teasing you?" She whispered, loudly enough for the others to hear it over the comms. "I could tell them how good you are,"

Coulson licked his lips, pulling in his bottom lip between his teeth, failing at fighting off a grin.

"They, uh, want me to keep my comms on while we're out," He told her apologetically, and she released a long sigh, resting her forehead on his shoulder. He was doing a good job of keeping his body between hers and where he knew Mack and May to be waiting.

"Hmm, I'll be good, then." She mused, sadly, teasing. Then she dropped her hand lower, slipping it into the back pocket of his trousers, squeezing once. He jumped, snickered half in embarrassment, and cleared his throat.

She didn't remove her hand, and Coulson's team was thankfully silent for the rest of their walk.

~~~~

"Did you go _shopping_?" Mack wondered as they neared the entrance of the hotel a couple hours later.

"This is not a hotel that rents by the hour," Coulson muttered dryly, "and she and I both would like something a little more comfortable to wear tomorrow."

"Also, I _love_ ice-cream," Daisy crooned, hearing his half of the conversation, dragging out the word 'love' in a manner that made Coulson clear his throat awkwardly.

"Ice cream." Mack repeated. "Why don't I ever get to go out on ops that include ice cream?"

"We can stop on the way back to base tomorrow, how's that?" May commented wryly, pressing on the word 'tomorrow'.

"Ok, back at the hotel safe and sound, alright?" Coulson put his hand up to his ear, and May added quickly,

"We're not hanging around here past 8am, Coulson."

"Got it, Boss." Coulson rolled his eyes, turned the comms off, and deftly slipped the bud out of his ear and into his pocket as they crossed through the lobby. One of the workers slipped into the elevator carrying a tray of room service just before the doors closed, so Daisy and Coulson had to wait until they were back in their room before saying anything else.

"We have an hour and a half to figure out how to get out of this building without your team noticing," Daisy began as Coulson opened the door for her.

Fury was sitting on the recliner, hands folded in his lap and head back; though it was impossible to tell if he was actually sleeping or not, with the glasses on his face.

"Not a problem," Fury spoke, unmoving, admittedly surprising Coulson enough to make him flinch. "Employee entrance at the restaurant downstairs."

"Alright," Daisy rocked forward on her toes next to the bed as Coulson set the bag of clothes on the mattress. "Let's get started." Their eyes met, both a bit thrilled about what they were about to do, and Fury sighed as he got to his feet with a grunt.

"It's like working with a couple of Level Five's again." Fury complained good-heartedly.

~~~~

"Four hours before your allotted extraction time, there was a raid on a shipment at the rear of the very building you were in the night before." Talbot informed him carefully, pulling open news feeds both live and a few hours old. "You want me to believe this is just a _coincidence_?"

May was standing there with her arms crossed, letting Talbot use the computer system in the office, but obviously not entirely with him on this line of questioning. Mack was there too, but he looked like he was waiting for any excuse to leave.

"I'm just as surprised as you are." Coulson shrugged calmly, looking at the footage without changing his expression. If he ever appeared worried, he would give it away. And he wasn't worried - he knew he, Fury, and Daisy were safe.

The newscasters were spinning it as an FBI raid that was related to an ongoing investigation, explaining away their lack of details. There was some footage of the 'raid', but it was blurry and at a great distance. Coulson did admire the form and speed with which he and Daisy took the van, though. They looked good together.

He licked his lips, wiping away the smile before it appeared. He noticed May noticing the gesture, but she said nothing.

"Are you saying this isn't you?" Talbot demanded, pointing at a zoomed in security camera shot of Coulson. It was his back, and his head was turned to the side slightly, but it was so grainy that it honestly could have been Kevin Spacey for all they knew. With the too-big blue FBI jacket, ball cap pulled low, and sunglasses, he knew they couldn't pin it on him.

"Last I knew, those weren't the letters we used." Coulson replied nonchalantly, and Talbot frowned even more at him, which Coulson hadn't thought was possible. "Wait, do we even get jackets?" Coulson asked Mack, who looked like he wanted to smile, but averted his face away from Talbot so he wouldn't get caught in the crosshairs as well.

"You were seen with a woman multiple times over the course of the night, and she was the one who gave you the information written in the report I was given? Who was she?" Talbot asked, looking at Coulson sideways, but Coulson was sure that his suspicion that it was Daisy was only because Talbot was constantly associating Coulson with _everything_ Daisy did.

"I don't know." Coulson shrugged again, and Talbot spluttered.

"You 'don't know'?" He repeated, incredulous. "These two tell me you _spent the night_ together!" He jabbed his thumb toward May and Mack.

"We didn't exactly talk much." Coulson admitted, smirking, quickly adding, "Other than about Mr. Witt and his Romanian friend, of course."

He never was that type of guy, to have a one-night stand with a woman and not even know her name - he was far more respectful than that. But Talbot didn't necessarily know that, although he did seem surprised by Coulson's words. He accepted them, looking disturbed, but accepted them nonetheless.

"You are a constant confusion, Agent Coulson." Talbot told him, and Coulson gave him an innocent look. Talbot looked back at the footage on the screen in front of them. "Look into this. If it's associated in any way with Mr. Witt, _find out who the hell robbed him_." Talbot tossed the remote onto May's desk and stalked out of the room, frustrated.

"He's so sure it wasn't actually the FBI?" Mack wondered carefully, mostly sure himself that it wasn't.

"He has a direct line with them. I'm sure he's already talked to them while he was on his way here." May answered, walking behind her desk and sitting down, grabbing the remote and closing out all the footage on the screen. Mack gave her a confused look.

"Since it isn't the FBI, shouldn't we do what Talbot asked? What if it was Hydra remnants stealing from him? Or other Watchdogs? Whoever it was, that's a lot of money to go missing," Mack pointed out.

"We're not going to figure it out." May told him, resigned about it. "All of what you just saw from Talbot is the best footage that's been found of the event. And Mr. Witt isn't going to talk to us about it - it was more than likely money that had been laundered and was headed for the Watchdogs."

"Alright," Mack said slowly, unsure, heading toward the door.

"Double check the report that was sent to Talbot, please?" May requested. "Make sure everything's there."

"Make sure we haven't accidentally given him a way to implicate Coulson?" Mack cleared up, and May shifted her eyes toward him without moving her head. He nodded, and left the room.

"Phil." She called out, before Coulson could leave the room as well. He sighed, closed the door, and turned back toward her. "I'm going to ask you this once," She informed him, looking directly at him, "and we'll never talk about it again. Was that you? You and Daisy and one of her friends?"

Coulson blinked at her, letting his expression relax into one of tiredness (he really was tired - he hadn't slept at all in more than twenty-four hours now), trying to show her that he was speaking to her as her friend, that he trusted her. (Of course he trusted her - but he also knew she was obligated to bring Daisy in. He wouldn't pull her off of this ledge along with him. Eventually, he _would_ be implicated. And when that time came, it would be a whole lot easier on everyone if he was _the only one_ still directly connected to Daisy. It'd be a lot easier if he had to disappear, too.)

"Look, I shouldn't have let things progress with the Russian woman as far as I did last night, I'll admit that. _Especially_ considering I wasn't the only one out on this op. But that wasn't me on that 'raid', Melinda." He frowned a little, and added, "And do you really think that was Daisy? That's not really her style...not _Quake_."

"And you would know, wouldn't you?" May mused, sighing.

"Well, I _was_ assigned lead on her retrieval." Coulson pointed out a little obnoxiously, and May looked up at him quickly, catching him with,

"How's that been going, lately?"

"She's Daisy." Coulson reminded her. "How do you think?"

May nodded, and looked back toward the files on her desk.

"You know I'm not judging you for last night, right?" She asked softly, as his friend, not as his boss. "We all get lonely sometimes. And she seemed _very_ interested in you."

"Are you... _teasing_ me?" Coulson frowned, but was unable to keep from then smiling a little proudly.

"All right, you're dismissed." She finally said, and Coulson left calmly but quick enough so she didn't have the chance to say something else.

As he walked down the hallway, he thought back over on the news footage from earlier this morning. Daisy had the bad guys locked up in whatever little base she had for herself these days (that had been quite the news to hear from her; that she had her own base), and she now had enough funds to last for a good long while. Their little operation had gone quickly and smoothly, and from what he's seen she has already managed to remove any damning evidence from local security footage, also erasing any footage of Fury's borrowed van as it exited the city.

He didn't want to make a habit out of doing things like this, but, they made a pretty good team. He was _almost_ jealous that Fury was even more out of the spotlight than Coulson was; that Fury could do things like this more often, whereas Coulson was stuck bringing it down from the inside. Still, though, he supposed a great team always included an inside-man, and that just had to be him for right now.

He smiled to himself, slipping his hand into his pocket and feeling the scrap of paper there that had a date and a set of coordinates on it. Another "secret mission". The lipstick kiss stain in the corner told him all the details he needed to know about it.

~~~~

 

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, I have enough time to post my RomFest fics! I'm sorry they're so late and all out of order. That's been pretty much my life, this past month.
> 
> The story got a little away from the song that first inspired the idea, but I went with it anyway. I had a lot of fun with it and wanted to keep writing! I might revisit this idea later in a different fic.
> 
> EDIT: By the way! - the basis at the beginning, the story of the hacked arms and CRAFT - I borrowed that from the tv show "Limitless".


End file.
